Page 59 of Strum Me

It’s okay. It was fun while it lasted. Gtg. See you this afternoon.

***

I’m nervous. I’m actually nervous.

I’ve played to millions of people on TV at the Grammys, I’ve played to hundreds of thousands of people at Glastonbury, but standing here at the airport with this stupid rose in my hand, waiting for Emily to get off the plane, I’m actually fucking nervous.

It’s bad enough that I was having spontaneous heart palpitations and erections just thinking of her, but after my stellar performance last night, I’m not really sure what she thinks of me right now.

I’m actually glad for the buffer that Ben is going to be, and to be honest, I’m really looking forward to seeing the little tyke as well. He’s like a tiny male version of Emily. He’ll say something and it’s like I’ve heard it before. Or he’ll run his hand through his hair and then look at it, as if surprised at how silky it is, just like I’ve seen her do a thousand times before. I’m fast falling for the little kid, and it’s scaring me almost as much as it is falling for her.

“Brad!”

“Benny Boy!”

He runs up to me as if we’ve known each other for years and jumps up into my arms. I hug him tight, taking care to not jostle his arm. And he giggles, for what seems like no reason at all.

“How are you doing, buddy? I’ve missed you guys!”

“You have? Mommy’s missed you too. She said it like ten times.”

“Oh she did, did she?” I allow myself to look at her for the first time.

“Never mind that. Go get your bag.” Butter ushers her son along.

“So, you missed me, did you?” My grin feels like it’s splitting my face in half.

“I thought you ‘knew’ that already.” She glares at me.

I lean down close to her, my cheek brushing hers and I think I hear a soft gasp from her lips. “I’m just glad you did, because I missed you so much, it hurt to breathe,” I whisper low into her ear.

“Seemed like you were breathing just fine last night.” She pulls away and rolls her eyes at me before shaking her head and letting out a tiny chuckle. It’s little, but it’s something. Something to say, “the door’s not closed on us yet.”

“I got my bag, Mommy.”

I take his backpack from him. “Okay, let’s get this show on the road! How ‘bout you tell me all about your helicopter ride, hey?” I pick him up and carry him through the crowd to the waiting car while listening to his excited babbling.